


Caleb is a Sleep-Deprived Mess with one (1) thought and it is Cuddles

by PossiblyNobody



Category: Critical Role (Web Series), Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Caduceus is soft (CANON), Caleb Widogast is a Mess, Deadlines are the Devil's Work, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, Fluff, M/M, Mighty Nein as Family, Pre-Slash, Pretty much everyone is pre-slash but its all soft, Team as Family, You can pry alive! Mollymauk from my cold dead hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 20:09:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20711819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PossiblyNobody/pseuds/PossiblyNobody
Summary: Caleb is tired and just wants to fall asleep on the first soft thing he finds.





	Caleb is a Sleep-Deprived Mess with one (1) thought and it is Cuddles

**Author's Note:**

> Will I ever stop writing soft Clayleb? No. No I will not. 
> 
> From a prompt I saw that said:  
Person A: “Shit, you look exhausted.”
> 
> Person B: “It’s probably the exhaustion.”

Caleb was tired.

That was an understatement.

It was his third day of waking up at 4.30am just to be the first to the library in order to get his favourite seat that was ALWAYS taken if he left it until 6am. 

He NEEDED that seat, it was the only place where he could get to the cafe for his coffee fix AND be situated far enough away from everyone to not be bothered- it was a nice, hidden seat, with no windows to be distracted by, and no seats surrounding it to hear any people talking. 

The Mighty Nein might be a personal space-invading group of friends, but they knew when Caleb was in his ‘Isolation Seat’ he needed to get Work Done. More so than usual at least. 

He had left his essay topic choice until a week ago, which was a mistake on his part, but a mistake that was made by necessity and hammered home by his current thesis supervisor, who had barraged him with so many edits for this thesis that he couldn't even spare a thought to his other modules. 

About 3 hours into his work day, Nott had come bounding up to him, breaking the rule of his seat being Undisturbable. Ignoring Caleb’s blank 1000 yard stare, she shoved a tuppleware into his arms, dismissing the ‘no food’ rule with a grin. 

‘Courtesy of Caduceus, he thought you might need a pick-me-up’, she said, also disregarding the ‘silent section’ sign. 

The cookies were still warm, and coffee flavoured. 

Caleb might be in love. 

Okay, Caleb had been in love for a little while now, and it had nothing to do with the cookies. 

It had more to do with the gentle smiles and slow patience that the taller firbolg always had for him, how he made Frumpkin personalised cat treats from his garden, and how he was always ready for a chat and a hug whenever Caleb needed. 

He had been a goner for a while now, but luckily whilst Cadeuceus was wise, he was not so smart; he was either ignoring or hadn’t noticed any of the lovestruck looks that Caleb had accidentally been throwing his way. 

But anyway, he had an essay to write, and it seemed as though his tall (so tall, so soft, so kissab-) FRIEND had laced the cookies with actual coffee, because he could feel the affects of the caffeine kicking in slightly even whilst he ate the first one, his body had become hard-wired to stand up and notice caffeine sometime around the second day of living at the library as long as possible.

Nott gave him a knowing look, a quick hug, then bounded off after saying something about a group presentation in her ‘detective class with Jester’ (forensic analysis, not that they ever called it that).

So his friends had (MOSTLY) all been leaving him alone, and he had been staying in the library from 5am-11.59pm (the library closed at midnight) so that he could craft the best final essay Essek had ever seen. 

It was necessary more than usual because Caleb planned on casually asking Essek if he would consider being Caleb’s supervisor for his masters once his degree was completed. 

Of course, Essek was ALREADY Caleb’s personal supervisor for all things College related, but he couldn’t risk getting Trent again- a man who was both demanding and impossible to please. 

For the sake of his mental health, he had to get Essek; his essay for his personal thesis project this year might be verging on flawless under Trent’s tutelage, but he had never had so many panic attacks as he had when under Trent’s ‘care’.

He didn’t have too much to worry about- Essek had dropped as many ‘hints’ as he could without flat out telling him that he would fight to be his supervisor next year, but Caleb woudl feel a lot better if he could first get Essek’s feedback on an essay of his that he was proud of. 

And as it seemed unlikely that Essek would be allowed to see his final thesis (supervisor’s tended to get possessive over their tutee’s work), Caleb needed to prove himself with his final essay for the course module that Essek oversaw, just to ease the sickly sensation in his stomach that whispered to him that he was only promising to supervise him to get him away from Trent, not because he thought that Caleb was a good student. 

So- 4.30am starts, a whole lot of coffee, almost no sleep because of stress, and Caleb was one bibliography away from finishing, a whole 5 hours before the deadline. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

He glanced over his work 1 and a half hours later, making sure there weren’t any obvious mistakes and tried to imagine Essek reading it, hopefully it would be enough for him to actually want Caleb as a tutee, beyond his protective feelings for the young man from the stories had had heard (and was sworn to secrecy over) about his current tutor. 

Submitting the assignment with a nervous tap of his keyboard, and printing it out to hand it in physically too (the hand-in process made students jump through hoops under the guise of ‘making sure no work gets unduly lost’), Caleb dragged himself to the right building to fully submit his essay on Dunamancy. 

Pushing the essay towards the woman at the reception, he tiredly slid over his student card as well, watching his name get ticketed off and receiving a small yellow slip for his trouble. 

Glancing at the small slip, Caleb felt a wave of thankful sleepiness crash over him, the last three days finally catching up to him. 

Next time he wouldn’t leave the choice of an essay topic this late… next time, he thought.  
Shouldering the door out of the building open, he almost crashed into the very elf he was attempting to impress, who caught the door gracefully, and sidestepped the wavering student. 

‘I see you’ve just handed in your essay Mr. Widogast, I expect good things’. Looking bemusedly at the yawning student who was visbly trying to snap himself to attention. 

‘Ja, I hope I have done you- I mean your module, proud’. Caleb was stuttering over himself, mentally racing over his essay to think over any points that the older man might find lacking. 

He couldn’t pinpoint any, but that hadn’t stopped Trent from (how Beau put it:) ‘tearing him a new one’ in the past. 

Pursing his lips a little, the older elf surveyed his student and said ‘you look dead on your feet- if it’s any consolation Mr. Widogast, I highly doubt that I will find anything lacking in your work, especially considering out conversations on the topic in the past.’

Caleb nodded a little, too tired to come up with an enlightened response. 

They had spent a few afternoons getting into heated discussions about the dunamancy and its historical and contemporary applications, much of which was the reason that Caleb wished to get Essek for a tutor in the future- having a tutor that both allowed you to speak your mind and pushed you in challenging ways would be a dream come true.

Essek continued: ‘whilst I am aware that I cannot alleviate any of your worry and stress over this essay in the little time I am in your presence, please do not think too hard on it in the upcoming days- you cannot change any of the outcomes now, so I think you should do yourself the favour of catching up on sleep and recreational activities whilst there is still time before the thesis rush’.

Caleb nodded again, albeit more slowly this time. 

As if he hadn’t spoken in the first place, the teacher gave a curt nod and continued into the building. 

His brand of ‘tough love’ is what had kept Caleb going throughout the past four years. 

He began walking through the campus towards the house he shared with his friends. 

Now that the fog of stress surrounding the essay abated, if even for the weekend whilst he had a break before he needed to start the whole thing again when working on Trent’s ‘revisions’ to his thesis conclusion; Caleb. Was. Exhausted. 

All the coffee he had drank in the past few days had abruptly left his body in one fell swoop, that swoop being handing in the physical copy. 

He knew that there wouldn’t be many people in the house today, what with half of them being at work, supporting their party lifestyles, and the other half still having deadlines for another day this week. 

Caleb knew he would find a quiet house when he returned, something he couldn’t be more thankful of- he was going to find the cosiest thing he could, and sleep on it for 10 hours. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He had seen Beau and Fjord at the library that morning (and Nott, obviously) in the queue for the café at 8.30am, when he had already been there for 3 hours and had already had a terrible machine coffee (the actual café didn’t open until 8.30am, much to all the students’ displeasure). 

They had exchanged tired smiles and commiserations, Beau had punched him on the arm but it had felt light, so she was probably as tired as he was, what with her also pulling shifts at the local boxing gym, giving lessons whilst her boss was on holiday. 

Fjord had given him a side hug and a ‘how’ve you been holdin’ up?’ which got back a mumbled shrug and a quick squeeze back- Caleb hadn’t been very used to physical contact before College, but becoming friends with this particular group had been a trial by fire. 

Quick to divert from his own dunamancy inspired despair at the time, he had asked a (quickly blushing) Fjord about how Jester’s art had been coming along. 

It was no great secret that Jester had a crush on Fjord, but what the others (minus Beau, because she hated being out of the loop and Caleb loved to keep her in it) didn’t realise, is that Fjord definitely had a crush on ‘Jessie’ as well. 

What was also no great secret is that Fjord had done some - life modelling - for Jester’s final class on ‘Form and Figures’. Something which she delighted in and he found incredibly uncomfortable but would never and COULD never say no to her. 

‘Oh, you know, it was all fine-‘ Fjord had rubbed the back of his neck ‘jus' shadin’ and such’.

Benevolently, Caleb let him lie and get his coffee, mostly because he didn’t have time to poke fun at his green friend, that would have to wait until after the essay had been handed in. 

That had been 7 hours ago, and the library didn’t close for another 9, so the two of them would probably be writing their respective ‘History of Arcana’ essays for another day or two at least, if their faces when Caleb had asked them about their assignments had anything to say about it. 

Molly was lucky, his drama programme had let him take a ‘placement in industry’ which was a fancy way of saying that he had gotten a role in a touring production and the college had let him defer his final year exams until after he got back. 

He would have to take the exams eventually, but by then the library would be blissfully quiet and not filled with all the people that Caleb tried so hard to avoid, not that Molly ever had that problem. 

He often missed his tiefling friend, but he knew that he was only a Facetime away, and that he was coming back in a month, along with Yasha, who jumped on the so-called bandwagon and got a job as a touring photographer for the production (much to Beau’s displeasure). 

They had been dancing around one another for months, and finally, about a week before Molly was formally offered the job, Yasha let slip one night while they had all been drinking that she might also feel something for Beau; which promptly freaked the woman out and made her rush to get a job with Molly’s production to buy herself some grace period. 

Beau and Yasha still spoke most days, but it had cooled off a little whilst the distance was still a thing. 

Privately, Caleb thought that part of Yasha’s hesitance was to do with Beau’s rebellious period in her third year of College, where she came out to her parents and subsequently tried it on with ever queer female-presenting humanoid she could find. 

What Yasha didn’t realise was that Caleb had endured many a talk with Beau about her feelings for Yasha, long before this (lovingly named by Jester) ‘slut phase’, and also during, and also after; her feelings for the Aasimar were no joke, even if they seemed to spring from no where or just from lust to the larger woman. 

But beyond everyone else’s love problems was his own. 

Caduceus was nice with everyone. He hadn’t dated or even attempted to date anyone at the college in the four years they all knew each other after meeting in halls. 

Caleb didn’t know if the firbolg even know HOW to flirt, and so would definitely not be aware of Caleb’s ridiculous pining, he could at least reassure himself. 

It was worse that Beau and Yasha, back when Yasha lived in their house full time- they would have staring contests in their hot tub out back (a pricey housewarming gift from Jester’s mom), waiting for the other to get out in an awkwardly charged silence. 

Meanwhile, Caleb and Caduceus would sit in each others rooms, with Caleb often reading and absently petting Frumpkin whilst Cadudeus would be doing school work and absently petting Caleb’s hair. 

Those were the evenings Caleb liked the best, but they had happened less and less the more the year progressed and the most that he quietly freaked out about his crush. 

He was too tired now to deal with his own mind though, the last of the coffee truly wearing off as he trudged his way to the front door. 

A lovingly made sign spelled out ‘Mighty Nein’s House!’ with an anatomically impressive penis carved into the wood by the sure hand of an artist (no prizes for guessing who).

He rested his head on the door while he fumbled with the keys, leaning and silently wondering whether he could have a quick nap against the door. 

Quickly veto-ing that idea, he slumped his way indoors and to the living room, dropping his bags and shows by the front door as he went. 

The only person in the room was Caduceus, looking more cozy than he had any right to be (he had some right, he finished his deadlines three days before everyone else), he was in a soft looking jumper, his pink hair falling in a gentle wave over one side, with a still-steaming tea to his right. 

The firbolg lifted his head from a textbook on mushrooms (gods, Caleb was in love with this soft, soft, man), and looked at Caleb. 

‘Shit’ he said mildly, ‘you look exhausted’. 

He put down his book and looked like he wanted to get up, but Caleb waved him off: 

‘Thanks, it’s the exhaustion.’

If he hadn’t spent the last few days in a furious caffeine-soaked writing daze, he might’ve been able to stop his mouth and body, but it felt like a haze had seeped into his brain and he just wanted to take a nap on his friend’s (!) comfy looking sweater. 

Without thinking, he dropped a chaste kiss onto Caduceus’ soft lips with a tired hum, then dropped down onto the sofa, curled up onto his lap, and gratefully promptly passed out, missing his friend (?) raising a hand to his mouth idly and touching it with wonder and a gentle smile, before settling back down and slowly stroking the hair of the sleeping human in his lap.


End file.
